


baby, you got me

by whisperedwords



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top!Lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He kisses her, and it's like he's on fire all over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, you got me

**Author's Note:**

> I have zero excuses for this oh god I was in a trashy mood when I wrote this. Dedicated to Bryanna [ciscobarry](http://ciscobarry.tumblr.com) because she TOLERATES my trash and is just an overall amazing person. I can't write sex for shit. I don't own any characters or pairings or shows--you'd know otherwise. also, this is unbeta'd, as is 90% of my work. lmao

They’re through Parrish’s front door in a crash, Lydia’s hands clutching at Jordan’s back as he tries to maneuver them both inside without either of them collapsing to the floor. The situation would probably be funnier if Lydia’s lips weren’t attached to his neck, his jaw, his own lips, biting and sucking and kissing in a way that lets him know she’s not here for playing games.

(Well, there  _is_  one game he wants to play, but he’s pretty sure she does too.)

In a flutter of movement, he allows her to unhook her legs from his waist and set her (flat-clad, to his surprise) feet on the floor before going at it again. His eyes rake over her face–her hair is  _just_  this side of messy and her pupils are blown wide, staring him in the face with the same expression he’s probably got on his face.

“Lydia–” He starts, but doesn’t get to finish, because before his next words can get out of his mouth, she’s back on him, pulling him down for another searing kiss, her teeth now biting at his lower lip. When they part, she makes sure to keep him bowed over a little when she growls “ _Bedroom_ ” in his ear, her red lips somehow still perfect and  _still_  good at giving her complete control. He nods once, and she drags him by the tie down the hall, tugging just hard enough to constrict his airway a little bit. (He silently curses himself for letting her know _just_  how well that works with him.)

They reach his bedroom in record time, he’s sure, and before he can even reach out to open the door, she kicks it just hard enough to send it swinging in. Parrish raises an eyebrow. “Learned from the best,” Lydia replies, her lilting voice dripping with sarcasm. He rolls his eyes.

“Gotta show you some better techniques, then, huh.” In a moment, he’s got her pressed up against the door, hands on her hips, lips curling into a dangerous smirk. Her breath hitches. “Like this one.” He heaves her into his arms again, and she lets out a squeal as she once again wraps her legs around his waist. Without another word, he strides towards his bed and she leaps off of him gracefully, bouncing backwards against the soft sheets she had bought for him the week before. (“ _Lydia, these are $70. I don’t need these.” “I’ll have you know that these are the most optimal sheets for intimacy, as proved by countless reviews on Amaz–” “Fine.”_ ) He strips down and climbs up so that he’s hovering just above her–“So  _beautiful_ , Lyds. Love you like this.”

“Mmmm,  _Deputy_.” She sighs as his lips crash to her collarbone. Jordan smiles at that, feeling her hand come up behind his head and gently cup the back of his neck. Her nails scratch ever-so-slightly against his skin as he bites down a little, and she feels something warm curling inside her. She sighs again as he eases up her neck and presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. He’s smiling down at her in that way that makes her insides melt, and it’s–it’s a little suffocating, to be honest. Lydia bats her eyes, looking away shyly for a moment. As she expected, he follows–gently, he nuzzles at her, lips whispering something that sounds like her name but  _better_ , and she breaks into a bigger smile. It’s then that she flips them over.

She strips out of her dress with practiced ease, peeling the soft gray fabric over her body in one smooth motion, leaving the deputy beneath her to watch as–oh god, she’s not wearing  _underwear_. Lydia’s smile turns devious as she watches his reaction to this. She throws her head back to ruffle her hair and then leans down so that she’s straddling his chest while her face is inches from his. “You like what you see?” The drawl in her voice makes Jordan forget how to breathe for a moment.

“Y–yeah,  _Christ_ , Lydia, were you really not wearing underwear the entire night?” She rolls her hips and he bites back a hiss. “Through the entire movie?” She doesn’t answer, scooting a little further up his chest so that her knees are bracketing his shoulders. “ _God_ , I love you.” And he knows what’s coming next–he rests a hand on her lower back and pushes her forward, his mouth waiting somewhat eagerly to find her core. She moans as she settles on his face, head thrown back as Jordan kisses her messily, his other hand gripping her hip tightly. His tongue is ruthless–one of her favorite qualities about him, she likes to tease–and he takes no time in eliciting gasps and shouts from his talent. Her hands reach down to rake through his hair, and he audibly gasps against her as her nails scratch against his scalp. His cock jumps–this woman is going to be the death of him. And, of course, he feels the phoenix in him start to wake up. Someday, he thinks, he’s got to learn to control the insatiable urge he’s got to burn everything up, literally or figuratively. Lydia’s head ducks down for a moment, and she sees the glow in his eyes.

“Oh, Deputy!” Her voice is a half-growl, half-gasp, and it might just be the hottest thing Jordan’s ever heard in his life. Her fingers curl in his hair, and he chooses that moment to use the surging power in his veins to lift her (easily) off of his face. He knows the signs before a Lydia orgasm–the hair thing is definitely one of them, and while he wants more than  _anything_  to give her that pleasure, he knows he can make it even better, even more blissed out. Lydia’s growl turns into a whine as his tongue slips out of her entrance. Before the sound finishes, though, she realizes what’s coming next–a blinding grin flashes across her face, and she makes sure to take her sweet time scooting back down his body before slowly,  _agonizingly_ , positioning herself just over his cock. His eyes are still the color of embers, and she doesn’t look away from his flaming gaze when she sinks down onto him. Parrish lets out a half-yell at the sensation, and she leans forward to bite his lips closed. He kisses her, and it’s like he’s on fire all over again.

Her lips are rough against his, and their teeth clash together more than once, but when she pulls back for a breath of air, her smile is wicked, and all at once, Jordan knows he’s in for it. With grace, she lifts her head up and leans backwards, arching her spine and rocking backwards once. He feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs. “ _Lydia_ , fuck, oh my god–” She rocks back again, her hair falling into her eyes once again. She runs a hand through it to regain her vision once more, and proceeds to roll her hips intoxicatingly while he practically welds his hands to her waist in a desperate attempt to find some control. (There is none, he knows–once Lydia starts, there’s no end until one of them comes. Usually, both.) Her head falls forward as she shifts direction, and a strangled cry of “ _LYDIA_ ” rasps from his throat. He feels like he’s on the edge of a cliff, or at the peak of a mountain, and with every sway of her hips he’s closer to falling over–but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take her with him. He does his best to rise up to meet her, to kiss her senseless, but she leans backwards–until the phoenix is burning in his blood again, and he finds the strength to surge up and kiss her passionately, one hand tangling in her hair. She moans against him, control quickly slipping from her fingers like sand.

“Jordan,” She pants, and he stares her right in the eyes. The orange flames seem to be spreading through his body, and she knows he’s on the edge, too. So she takes the final step, and, in a low voice, murmurs “ _please_ ” in his ear before biting his earlobe hard enough to draw a little blood. He lets out a gasp and then comes, her name spilling from his lips like a prayer. She follows, listening to him come down, and the scream that slips from her throat isn’t one of death, or agony, or darkness–but one of joy, of the purity of her connection to her other.

Life cradles her face, runs a hand through her hair, presses a kiss to her outstretched palm–and she thinks that maybe,  _maybe_ , death might not be such a bad thing to be.


End file.
